The Nine Year Old Killer

Part 8: New Room

As the last box was packed into her dads truck, her mother cried harder. "I'm going to miss you Em!" Emily hugged her mother tightly, "I know mom. I need to get away from what I've done, I love you." Her mom hugged her tighter, "I love you too! Call me every night, or if you need help. I'm always one call away." Those words put a song into Emily's mind, she was happy to at least remember that.

Her pills, besides the ones that helped her anger, made her almost completely emotionless. She felt like a robot. Closing the trucks door, she waved out the window. Slowly drifting away, Emily frowned, she was going to miss her mom.

"Are you hungry Emily?" Her dad tried to make conversation with the daughter he hasn't seen in a few years. She nods, "a little." Her tummy growls loudly, her dad giggles, "maybe a lot?" Driving down the highway, he starts naming off places that sounded good. Finally, he says something appetizing to Emily. "Big boy?" She shakes her head rapidly, she couldn't remember the last time she was eating there.

"Let's get some grub then." He parks the truck and both head inside, "right this way." Sitting in the Booth, Emily looked around. Being so close to people made her nervous, she didn't want to hurt anyone. When the doctor found out about the murders, he made her anonymous, so nobody could tell it was her. He wanted a nine year old to have a normal life, at least he'd hope she would.

"Here's your apple juice and tea, ready to order?" She didn't even realize he ordered the drinks, she was in space. "Em. What do you want?" Emily snapped back into reality, "um, chicken tenders and fried apples." Her dad orders his meal, "I'll be back with that. Enjoy your drinks," she takes off into the kitchen.

After lunch, they were back on the road. A few houses and apartment complexes later, he pulls up to a little neighborhood. "Here's your new home. I hope you'll like your bedroom, purple okay?" He starts unloading things into the house, Emily follows. Looking around, she notices he really tried to make it 'kid' friendly. Toys, games, a tent. She was impressed with how he pulled this together, considering he didn't have a daughter around for a while. Wanting to tell him, but not having the strength or heart to do so, she didn't. Being an odd child meant liking odd things, toys and tents weren't her thing.

"So, have a look at your room for me? I just finished tiding up." She pushes the door open a crack, shoving it open the next. A small wooden desk, pencils, paper, crayons, and markers on top. A plain white dresser, a purple curtain, and a new purple bed spread. She didn't understand what was so special. "Before I bore you," he pulls buckets out from the closet, "paint however you'd like. The dresser, desk, and walls are your canvas."

She was going to enjoy this.